Spider-Man and Watson
by Smoothly Does It
Summary: Origins retelling attempting to give Mary-Jane Watson's troubled canon background a more resonant effect on how she turned out and how that might have influenced everything else. Feedback encouraged :)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

I do not own any character herein depicted, Spider-man and all related characters are property of Marvel/Disney.

This fan-fiction is written by SmoothlyDiF and carries DeviantArt's and/or 's usual Creative Commons license.

This story has a **mature rating** due to sexual content, use of the naughty swears and peculiar violence unsuitable for minors.

Personal note: this may not be everybody's cup of tea and I apologise in advance if the structure reads confusingly, but it's something I've wanted to write for some time now and hopefully you will get something out of it, feedback as always is greatly appreciated.

SmoothlyDiF

Chapter 1

It was reaching that moment when the sun's descent into the horizon takes all the heat of the day with it and the shadows creep over New York, bringing with them the types that revel in the darkness. For Peter Parker, Spider-Man, this was when the fun began, when the monotony of the day job was replaced by the thrill of the moonlight shift, tensile noir spandex and all.

With an uncomfortable twitch that momentarily disoriented him, the crime-fighting vigilante got the chilling sense of an attack in progress, releasing a web-line to land with poise on the lip of a roof. He glanced down into an alley illuminated by the falling sun, a panicked young woman backing away from two shady-looking individuals coming towards her with menace.

"Seems the good people of New York never learn..." Spider-Man muttered to himself, shrugging his eyelids, "Ah well!" With an artful front flip, he descended into the fray, webs cast and distraction caused before he'd even landed.

"The hell is this stuff!?" panicked a gravely voice, turning to the fourth player entering the scene.

"It's 'Spidey's own brand silly-string'! Sticky, ain't it?" Peter quipped, leaping from his crouched position towards the would-be assailants.

The two small-time thugs wore expressions of despair as the lightning-strike quick man grabbed their wrists and seemingly effortlessly held them in place.

"Now are you gonna play nice or do I have to take your toys away?" Spider-Man asked, giving a little squeeze to illustrate his point.

"Alright, alright!" a second, female voice accepted defeat, "We don't want no trouble, we're just hard up. Right, Larry?" Peter listened as they both dropped their weapons.

"Shut up, bae! Now he knows who I am!"

"I don't think he cares who y'are, _bae_!" She replied sarcastically, Peter smiling to himself at the comical situation.

"Look, are-" He began, but found himelf cut off.

"You always gotta do this!" 'Larry' accused, they now facing one-another despite Spidey's grip.

"Ughh!" He groaned, letting go, "Just... get outta here and stop mugging people!" With some surprise and yet a sudden drive, the two turned and ran without their weapons. "I don't have the patience to-"

"Aren't you going to arrest them or _something_!?" Spider-Man span to the would-be muggee as she exclaimed this, his tongue suddenly dry and his wit gone as the red-headed sillhouette of the woman brought an all too tangible sense of deja-vu.

"I- uh..." He just muttered stupidly, his eyes focusing in the low orange sun. His mind played tricks, telling him it was her, that it was just like the first time, just like when they met!

"Hhh, never mind... thanks for saving me, Spider-Man!" She got close enough that the stunned Super-hero could get a fix on her facial features and exhale a heavy sigh of dissapointment-cum-relief.

Relief etched on her face, the woman nodded and smiled. "Yah... sure, no problem!" He scratched the back of his neck in an awkward twitch and found himself alone as she walked away.

Alone... with that gut-wrenching sense of void left behind in Mary-Jane Watson's wake. As he imagined her, that whole situation came flooding back, when he first met the girl of his dreams:

"**Peter**!" A younger, spottier, not-at-all super-powered Peter Parker heard from downstairs. He dragged himself from his bed with a sigh, walking to the top of the stairs to see his uncle staring straight back up at him.

"Yeah, Uncle Ben?" He asked wearily, his face a picture of disregard and disrespect, a little drained and bleached from too many hours staring at the TV, hidden from the sun.

"You coming down here, kiddo? Mary-Jane'll be here soon, remember? For the date your Aunt set up for you?" The ever calm, reassuring voice of the late middle-aged man was - as always - spoken with the experience he'd gained of speaking to the teenaged recluse.

With slumped shoulders and a bobbing head, the orphaned Parker boy descended the stairs; like a sulking child trying to prove a point to his parents, he heaved heavily "I told Aunt May, I don't _wanna_ go on a blind date." Ben Parker smirked and rolled his eyes.

"Oh right, because 'it's like a lottery', right?" He asked rhetorically, "Hate to tell you this, kiddo, but you might _not_ be the jackpot. Poor girl..." His jabbed with his usual style of unrelenting banter. Peter continued to slither down the stairs like a half-asleep cat not getting a feeling for the task at hand and huffed as if he'd not heard it.

Ben Parker turned and left the foot of the stairs with a shrug, returning to whatever he was doing: Peter imagined that meant smoking his pipe and reading the paper how he thought all 'old people' do.

The teen stopped at the foot of the stairs by the door and looked at himself in the mirror; he quietly gee'd himself up and tossed his mid-length hair out of his eyes. He thought he looked alright: his best t-shirt (_one_ food stain is passable, right?) baggy jeans and _barely_ noticeable rings around his eyes. Why did he _have_ to look alright, anyway? Girls don't care what guys look like... at least that's what he'd always been _led _to believe.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice the shadow flash through the etched windows by the door, getting a start when the doorbell rang next to him. He calmed himself and turned to open it, just as his low-flying 'Aunt May', ever-energetic, appeared and beat him to it. She swung the door open as if oblivious to him, pushing Peter back and beamed at the person beyond.

"Mary-Jane! Lovely to see you again!" Peter righted himself as May pulled her hand off the door-handle and turned to him, "Peter, this is Mary-Jane Watson!" He stuck his head around the door reluctantly, almost using it as a barrier between himself and the date he didn't want to have to spend the evening with.

"H... i?" He stammered, his lean flowing into an off-balance stumble out from behind cover, "-Hi!" He finished, jaw already disconnecting from his face.

There she stood, a silhouette in front of the sun in a halo of deep orange light, her radiant flame hair framing a face that shaped so as to say 'I'm scrutinising you!' The teenage male (and he recalled all _this_ with a face-palm) just blathered a few nonsensical consonants and stared, helpless as a drowning kitten at everything he shouldn't. The young woman must have seen it all, but just slouched a little more and cracked a smile.

"Face it, _Tiger_..." Mary-Jane said, drawing his attention further north, "_You_ just hit the Jackpot!"

Mary-Jane twirled a lock of hair between her fingers, three years older and sitting cross-legged on her bed. She enjoyed having her own place, it gave her privacy and enough 'me-time' to get by, even if there were things about the place that were less than desirable; she enjoyed having as much free time as she did and not having her family around to annoy her; most of all though: she _loved_ this programme!

MJ's addiction to TV was a new thing and she wondered why she hadn't made more time for it in the past: there were so many dramatic stories and overexaggerated characters, all kinds of crazy things she just didn't see enough of in the real world. When she'd taken the time, the brainwash-box had turned her into a total junkie.

"Oh come on, you're just being a dick!" She protested, gesticulating at the TV in the corner and scowling at it. Talking to the TV wasn't quite such a new thing, _that_ one she'd picked up from the family (her dad, more accurately, holding one-way conversations with radio hosts) on their regular trips cross-country as she was growing up.

Mary-Jane exhaled heavily and crossly as she flicked the set off and slumped back against the cold wall. There she sat for a moment and looked about the cramped room; she wondered how she'd come to be here and thought back to her childhood and the things that had shaped her:

"But daaad! Why are we leaving _again_?" A younger, scraggly-haired MJ protested as her clearly focused father packed her suitcase into the back of the car.

"Because we _are_, Mary-Jane!" He answered without answering. She pouted, they'd only been here a matter of weeks and she'd only just really started making friends again.

"But-"

"Mary-Jane, don't answer your father back!" Her other parent cut in, exiting the house they'd barely made a home, "Get in the car." She ordered, not taking a moment to consider the young teen's feelings or reaction.

MJ thought how unfair it was, that she couldn't even say goodbye to her friends, that she had no idea where they were going _or why_! "This keeps happening, it's not fair." She protested quietly, but her dad heard her.

"**Get in the car, MJ!** I _won't_ tell you again!" he barked angrily, slamming his hand on the car roof.

She needn't have bothered and knew it, it never got her anywhere arguing the point, it was all an inevitable, recurring nightmare. She grumpily peeled off the wall she'd slouched against and frogmarched over to the vehicle, chuntering about being a slave as her anger for her parents frothed beneath the surface.

They pulled away with all her scant posessions on-board, the redhead watching studiously out of the window while she silently wished her home goodbye. She didn't say a word, that would just get her into trouble, as if that was anything new! She slumped back with heavy shoulders and disapproving body language, her older sister, Gayle, looked at her but paid her no mind.

Mary-Jane thought her sister stupid, weak and spoilt: never getting into trouble, just quietly letting it all fall on the younger Watson daughter. Her dad would calm down, maybe tell her where they were going later, but-

MJ sat up with a start, "_Dad, stop_! That's Becky!" She ordered aloud, seeing her best friend as they travelled on.

"No, MJ, we don't have time." He calmly but firmly replied, glancing in the mirror at her.

"Dad, I want to say goodbye! Please dad! Pl-" She was cut off as he snapped and punched the steering wheel.

"**No, Mary-Jane**!" He shouted, reaching over the side of the driver's seat and threateningly gesturing, "Why do you have to be so _god-damn_ difficult!?" His face was a picture of rage, even as he inhaled deeply and turned back to the road.

Mary-Jane Watson watched her new-old best friend vanish behind the car and once again felt another bit of her life vanish, sinking back into her chair. The shouting hurt, the losing her friends without even saying goodbye hurt, everything seemed to hurt but Mary-Jane refused tears and self-pity: She would start again, make her mark all over again _whatever_ it took!

It was always like this; Phillip Watson was a self-obsessed man, a self-proclaimed screenwriting and literary virtuoso who was utterly obsessed with his career. If he had to uproot his whole family and drag them across the country to further his own ambitions he'd do just that; to his chagrin he never found in anyone except his wife _Maddie_ the kind of respect he felt he deserved, despite his own selfish treatment of his family.

Mary-Jane had got used to this, to moving every few months and starting all over again; she was starting to get extremely good at quickly making new friends and enemies to fill the void left by never having a solid social life.

Arriving in a new town, setting up shop in a new school she'd be the talk of the place inside a week and the most popular girl around inside a month, she always was, regardless of whether or not it was for all the wrong reasons.

She felt quite sure her mom hated her, while her sister had no time for her or anyone else: a total hermit of a young woman as she was. While dad wasn't interested in having a family for any more than show, Madeline had tried her best for years to create something like normality for the nomadic Watsons.

This often meant that when Mary-Jane got into trouble, it was her mom who would have to pick up the pieces and MJ had a knack of getting into _lots_ of trouble! The feeling at least was mutual, the youngest of the family thought her Mother was a horrible person, always shouting or drinking, she was someone MJ swore she wouldn't turn out like: a shell of a woman hollowed out by a dysfunctional family life and no personal ambition left to speak of.

Madeline lived through her husband and her husband, despite his arrogance, was an unqualified failure. She'd surrendered her dreams, she'd surrendered herself and become something utterly repulsive in the bright, judgmental eyes of her younger daughter and something alien in the eyes of the elder.

In the back seat of that uncomfortable car, more suited to making a big impression than fitting and transporting a family of four and all their belongings, Mary Jane Watson brooded on how much she hated all this, self-righteous and headstrong, she vowed to one day be free.

MJ recalled these episodes and feelings knowing what they grew into in the end; it wasn't her fault she mused, she'd far from had a perfect life! She grimaced on her bed and gritted her teeth, the past was painful, but was she any better off now?

Given what had happened, how she'd come to be free from her toxic family environment, had she really done better in life? Admittedly no... she hated them at times, but at least back then she had someone to bounce off, someone to shape herself around or rather _against_.

Mary Jane rolled over and stared into space, recently retrospective thinking seemed therapeutic; how times _and_ people change, she thought, but not with great surprise. She smiled as she realised that today is the big day: finally she'll be going back to New York!

"I wonder how Mom and Gayle are doing?" She thought aloud, if they still hated her, if they'd let her back into their lives. She exhaled heavily, she would _have_ to go see them, even if they weren't first on her list. "What do I even say to them?" MJ asked herself with a frown and thought back to when it all began to sour.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:

I do not own any character herein depicted, Spider-man and all related characters are property of Marvel/Disney.

This fan-fiction is written by SmoothlyDiF and carries DeviantArt's and/or 's usual Creative Commons license.

This story has a **mature rating** due to sexual content, use of the naughty swears and peculiar violence unsuitable for minors.

Personal note: this may not be everybody's cup of tea and I apologise in advance if the structure reads confusingly, but it's something I've wanted to write for some time now and hopefully you will get something out of it, feedback as always is greatly appreciated.

SmoothlyDiF

Chapter 2

"Why is it always you, Mary?" Madeline Watson asked accusingly, arms folded across her chest with a look MJ hated to recall just as much as she'd hated looking at it real-time.

"Me!? But Gayle was there too!" She pleaded, stood outside her one-time school principle's office and feeling like a victim _again_!

"Gayle!? You need to be _more_ like her! She never gets into trouble, works hard... what's _wrong_ with you?" Her mom sternly huffed.

"She's an asshole..." The young teen, as smarmy and self-centred as ever, muttered under her breath.

"_What_ was that!?" Mom asked, MJ could still (with her iron-trap memory as it was) remember the furious look on her face as she retorted:

"You're _both_ assholes!" Maddie was clearly shocked and biting her tongue at hearing this, "She never gets blamed for anything, just me! I _hate_ her and I _hate_ you!" She shot up, her mom somewhere between anger and shock.

"I..." She softly said, mostly to herself.

"Mom, just..." MJ's older sister, quiet until now, spoke up. "-just leave it."

"She won't though, will she?" MJ asked sharply, "It was all _your_ fault, but I'm in trouble for it! If it was just you..." Mary curled up her lip in disgust at her sister.

"Yeah? You ever think why that is, you little brat!?" Gayle jumped out of her seat, squaring up to her little sister.

"Oh I dunno, because I don't know how to ass kiss like you?" MJ retorted with spite, up in her sister's face. "'Cuz I don't play her like an idiot!?"

"**Fuck you**, Mary!" Gayle said, to both her family members' shock, MJ furrowing her brow as the insult bedded into her.

"**Gayle!**" Maddie snapped, about to leap up when MJ broke all the rules, launching one perfectly spherical, finely honed globule of slaver at her sister. Her mom was flattened in shock into the uncomfortable waiting-room seat.

The older Watson girl was likewise shocked, recoiling and wiping the projectile saliva out of her eyes as she screamed in disgust.

MJ remembered the scuffle that followed: scratches, hair-pulling, punching _and_ kicking, her mother in tears and herself torn away by an astounded professor. She thought in retrospect that her relationship with Gayle had turned at that moment; they'd gone from peaceful indifference to outright hatred and MJ made it one of her missions in life to see Gayle be as unpopular as ever any chance she got!

As for her mom: worse things had happened to sour feelings between she and Mary-Jane, but this one seemed to bring it all home to woman devoid of aspiration and hope, to finally hammer in the nail that pushed her alchoholism into dangerous addiction territory and strip away the last remaining shreds of life on her bones.

Mary-Jane, despite it all didn't care back then (or all that much now really.) Lying there, thinking... she didn't want to know, even if she had asked herself about it: they'd both treated her like a black sheep for years, they deserved it... most of it anyway.

Months later, Mary-Jane remembered watched her sister crying over the spilt milk of her life, curled up on her bed weeping as little sis watched through the door crack.

MJ got the sense of Gayle locking herself away without a mother worth speaking to or a father that cared what she did. Where she once might have been interested that her sister was doing something other than mope and silently hover in public spaces like a ghost, she actually found herself taking a certain grim satisfaction she didn't understand at first.

Thinking back now as a grown adult it seemed naive the way she revelled in watching her sister's life fall apart, not quite sure why she was feeling happy, excited and tingly all-over. She thought it fitting that the one thing her big sister taught her was that she wasn't an 'ordinary' girl after she'd spent so long thinking of Gayle as some freakish social outcast.

Mary-Jane's eyes seemed rooted on that juddering point beyond the door where her sister heaved her tears into a pillow, wanting to know more, wanting to see more and hear more; she knew her parents weren't in, nobody could hear or see... she _had_ to! Standing, the younger, forming red-head pushed the door open quickly, rushing in with a laugh as Gayle span to her with eyes red from crying and opened wide in shock.

"Haa-haa, big girl Gayle's crying like a baby!" She pointed and joked, "What's the matter, doofus? You get beat up?" Almost uncontrollably, MJ leapt on her exhausted, emotional sister and drove fists into her for her own amusement.

By this stage MJ had learnt that she was better than the other girls, that it was funny to embarrass and hurt them, but Gayle... she'd never hit her sister before and she found it... _special_ almost!

The slightly bigger, older Watson girl fought and wrestled, even as MJ hit her roughly and aggressively, taking advantage of her trouble state. "Stop it! Stop it, Mary!" She thrust and kicked, eventually released by the red-head who stepped back laughing, heavily heaving from the effort, beaming from eye-to-eye...

Yes... yes, she could get used to this, she thought back then, but time would show that Gayle was no fun, too quiet and unresponsive. That moment started something though and the memory of standing over her bed-bound, wailing sister, _knowing_ she had the power stayed with MJ for a very long time, elaborating within her with every telling, encouraging her like an experience to fall back on and cherished by her like the persona-forming moment it would turn into.

Spider-Man swallowed hard as he swung through the darkening city streets, ever since that chill he'd felt when he thought it was MJ standing there in that alley, he hadn't been able to get his mind off her, he felt just like he did when she'd gone away: heart-broken, self-loathing too.

It hadn't been pretty, any of it; in the days that followed he'd been inconsolable but 'the _why_' had taken some time to understand. Once upon a time they'd been happy, loving and the things they'd done had blown his mind, but in the end...

He wondered back then and even now he thought about it: had it been _his_ fault? Had _he_ caused her to snap as she did? He hadn't exactly been a pillar of strength around her and in a way he could understand it, she'd had a hard life and all, but he'd never stood up to her... or _for_ her, maybe he was too much of a walk over and that's why it happened?

It fried Peter's brain thinking about it and all the emotions the mere mention of the young woman's name conjured in him; he missed her, there was no doubt, but in some ways he felt better off without the 'girl of his dreams'; he chuckled at that phrase.

That uncomfortable swelling in his head told Peter something was up again, his ears pricked and his eyes darted. "Oh maaan, not _him_ again!" he complained as he dropped from the sky towards the towering grey hulk of a contract rogue calling himself 'The Rhino'.

He landed in a squat on the big guy's hunched back, getting his attention, "Haven't I told you it's rude to throw cars at people?"

"Whuh? Duh Bug!" The lump huffed and span up and around trying to snare the slippery hero.

"Sheesh! 'Hello' would suffice, y'know?" Spider-man chirped mid-flip and webbed the numb shoulders of the goliath, catapulting him feet-first into the big guy's face. The hulk of a man bounced nicely a short ways along the empty street, people hunched in the shadows watching the destruction unfold.

"What's this now, _four_ times you've escaped and I've had to beat you down?" Peter asked with a dapper flourish as he stared down the beast, "Why don't you just give up? We both know how this is gonna end!"

"Bug, I'm gonna smash you up for all those times you landed me in the slammer! Yeah, I'm gonna smash you up _gooood!_" The Rhino threatened, scuffing his foot along the ground as if trying to light a wet match.

"uhh-huh, suuure you are!" Sarcasm oozing from every word, the slender man threw web splats in the eyes of the hapless, charging villain who stumbled, tripped and face-planted spectacularly. "Ouch..." Peter laughed to himself.

"Guh!" The big man began picking himself up, only to find more of his enemy's sticky stuff where he put his huge hands.

"I can't believe you still think you've got a chance! I've fought villains _five times_ tougher and faster than you and I'm still here!" Peter shivered at the thought of the villain he had in mind.

He tried to shake it from his head, but found it lingering: a strange clinging desire to plunge into memories once again, in particular tough and unpleasant ones. He managed to ignore it long enough to launch a full-blooded kick to the face of the rising villain once again, knocking him back down.

Even with this relatively easy fight going well, Spidey was feeling all wrong, on edge as he imagined _that_ terribly powerful enemy leaping out at any moment: The thought of his fights with them that drew out over days and ended in so many cuts and broken bones (not to mention innocent lives lost) wouldn't shake from his mind, he wished and prayed it wasn't an omen!

"**Bug!**" Rhino shouted, breaking into a charged sprint again, "I'm gonna _gore_ you and _wear _you like a hood ornament!" He cried, tempting fate, a fate delivered with a humiliating dodge and another well placed web-shot.

Spider-man, even now, even in the heat of battle, couldn't concentrate, as if one part of his mind was obsessing on other things causing a throbbing in his head as his attention divided awkwardly! "Alright, Rhino! Stop this now before you get hurt any more! I'm _not_ in the mood!"

"Whut you say?" The rising goliath stomped towards him, "You talkin' down to me, **kid!?**" He demanded, scarily huge and not so easily disposed of without his enraged charges.

Peter had no mind to be daunted, no mind to back down, just a splitting headache growing at every moment. Short on patience, short on will, Spider-man voiced his anger "I've had it with you, Rhino! All you do is smash stuff and ruin people's lives!"

The big man huffed as if amused, "If they arrest you again, what's gonna happen? You'll get out, do it all again and we're back where we god-damn started!" Peter was growing more and more pained by his pulsing temples and just as angry with the pointless fight.

"And what are _you_ gonna do about it, _bug_!?" The big man laughed, "Even if you _could_, you ain't man enough to do anything!" The heroic vigilante gritted his teeth, his headache turned into dizziness as he fought internally, his mind split and his attention began failing.

"Not man enough? **Not man enough!?**" He shouted, fueled by things he barely believed he could be, finding some inner strength, just like _that time_... as he recalled another moment from the past his head pulsed violently as if something clung to that flicker of likening the two experience and when his skull felt ready to implode... he blacked out and found himself reliving another memory he'd buried deep:

*dock-dock-dock* A gentle knock at his bedroom door, "Peter?" Came his aunt's gentle voice, the slit of light in the dark room widening until it blinded the 35 month younger Peter. "I brought you some cocoa..." She offered, weakly displaying the mug she held.

Peter stirred slightly and pulled the covers down from over his face, looking at his surrogate maternal figure with a token, thankful smile. She laid it down on his bedside table and sat on the lip of his bed as he wriggled further up to the top of his bed, "Thanks... Aunt May."

She stroked his maned head as he sat up a little, wistful as she regarded him. "How are you feeling? Do you want to talk about it?" She looked down to his still heavily bandaged chest with a slight distaste, but Peter hadn't noticed her glance as he pulled himself up to a seated position.

"I..." He thought for a moment, then grabbed the offering in beverage form. He looked into his Aunt's eyes and recognised her pain and worry, remembering he wasn't the only one to have suffered in all this. "Aunt May?"

"Hmm?" She smiled, noting his serious expression.

"It'll be alright... won't it?" He half-reassured, half-asked. She nodded bravely.

"Of course it will, dear... You know what Ben would have told you?" She seemed to swallow hard as she said that, catching her breath. "That bad things... bad people... are put in this world so good people can know what is right. God gives us these challenges so we can prove how strong we are..."

Peter had long since realised he wasn't a religious young man, but all his life he'd been read from the deterministic hymnbook so the notion of goodness prevailing in the end resonated with him now more than ever. He nodded, "You're right. We'll be OK."

They embraced comfortingly; they'd both suffered and lost in this whole debacle, but found strength in still having each other. "Peter...?" May said, still holding him. "You can tell me what happened... if you're ready?"

The dread of humiliation reintroduced itself in Peter's demeanor as she offered this; he couldn't possibly tell her what happened between himself and Mary-Jane! She was the only family he had and telling her _that_, well... he sighed and pulled back from her arms. "Uh..."

"You don't have to, but you can tell me what she did to you... she was evil, Peter and I'm sorry I caused this to happen..." He was shocked.

"C-caused!? No, no! You didn't cause this, Aunt May! It was MJ's fault... and _mine_!" He reassured, not realising until now that she might blame herself having matchmade he and Mary Jane in the first place. "I... let her walk all over me. I let her control me and distance me from my friends. I let her... make me depend on her _because_ she scared off everyone else. It was my fault... I should have stood up to her!" He forlornly swore at himself.

"No, Peter, it wasn't like th-" May was interupted as Peter found courage and a solution rising within him at last.

"It _was_, Aunt May! But it won't happen next time, I won't let myself be a victim like that again; she wo_n't_ hurt or scare me _anymore!_" He exclaimed with resolve. "I think you were right... I was _meant_ to meet her and be hurt, because I need to be stronger! And I _will_ be! You just watch!" Peter pulled the covers back and swung his legs out of bed, "Starting right now, I'll be a better man!"

As Peter stood up, May smiled warmly at seeing some confidence return to her nephew at last.

"Come that field trip to the university tomorrow I'll be the best Peter Parker they've ever seen!"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:

I do not own any character herein depicted, Spider-man and all related characters are property of Marvel/Disney.

This fan-fiction is written by SmoothlyDiF and carries DeviantArt's and/or 's usual Creative Commons license.

This story has a **mature rating** due to sexual content, use of the naughty swears and peculiar violence unsuitable for minors.

Personal note: this may not be everybody's cup of tea and I apologise in advance if the structure reads confusingly, but it's something I've wanted to write for some time now and hopefully you will get something out of it, feedback as always is greatly appreciated.

SmoothlyDiF

Chapter 3

Mary-Jane Watson groaned as she brushed down her outfit, she'd been told it went well with her hair when she got it, but it still failed to appeal. She sighed and shrugged, "It'll do..." she admitted, considering the alternatives. Mary always enjoyed going out to eat and meeting Sandy was another reason for excitement, they never got to talk enough for MJ's liking.

She shook her hair out as her mind tattled along without purpose, resting on her favourite TV shows, what she would eat and finally on more of her past. "Gah... I'm getting nostalgic today!" MJ smiled, "That's not all bad though, I suppose..." at least, she admitted, she _could_ look back unlike "Jenny Francis, heh... Toledo's a sparser place without you..." She found humour still in what she thought were halcyon days perfecting her attention-seeking, bullying art in Ohio.

It had been another turning point, another memorable moment and one that had brought out feelings in her quite aside from what she was 'supposed to feel'. Watching the news report that evening in the small, usually quiet town at first shocked her when she heard the name announced.

"Mary? Do you know her?" Her mom had asked, unanswered until a wry, satisfied smirk drew over her face, surprising her parent. "A-Are you-?"

"Yeah I know her..." MJ had replied, watching intently, "Bet the fat bitch dented the pavement too, haha!" She'd seen the twitch of a response to her words out of the corner of her eye.

"**Mary!** That's _horrible!_ How could you say that about that poor girl!?" MJ threw down her fork onto her sofa table and pushed it out of the way, standing to make her leave with a big smile still on her face as she'd taken out her phone.

"Like _you_ care!" She'd retorted as she left the 'family' dinner, "Go back to your whiskey why don't you?" Utterly unafraid of parental repercussions – she'd get them anyway so she'd given up holding back. By the time her mom had reacted, MJ'd already hurried out the front door, chuckling as she texted her friends.

Walking down the garden path, she had turned to see her mother storm out and shout angry remarks her way, a flipped bird her only response to her mortified parent. MJ imagined now what her mom must have thought back then; what she must have muttered under her breath and whined as she cried into her liquor hours later.

She knew some of it of course, because she'd heard it later that night as it was flung her way along with an empty whiskey bottle during another of the old bag's psychotic, drunken rages. Still it always amused her thinking what retribution she had taken in moments like that on her would-be-abusive parent.

Thinking back, MJ recalled her friends hadn't been nearly as happy as she thought they should have been by the news of their victim's suicide, but she was never one to be swayed by popular opinion; hell she _decided_ it around here! She realised she really had her mom and dad to thank for _that too_: mom for her hopeless, blathered attempts at physical abuse and dad for his bitter, cruel words every time he bothered to acknowledge her existence.

They'd made her strong while trying to tame and destroy her, given her resilience and the ability to defend herself (and attack others when the mood took her.) She hadn't ever even felt like she was taking her rage out on people, she was just... sharing what she knew, spreading the love as she claimed. Shame her school principal didn't see it that way when Jenny's suicide note came to light.

"All in the past." Mary-Jane thought aloud as she stood up from the mirror, stretching out as her attention turned back to dinner, the sound of footsteps approaching down the hall drawing her attention. "Here we go!" She rubber her hands together excitedly.

She stepped forwards as the door slid open, the woman she'd been waiting for stepping inside, "Ready, Mary?" Asked the tall figure MJ felt some degree of begrudging respect for.

"Let's eat!" She exclaimed and followed the strong figure out of the door.

Spider-Man snapped to on a rooftop, gazing left and right at the city below his flexible perch, "Wh-!?" He asked, aware he'd been out of it for a while, "Oh yeah-" He recalled it all very clearly, "I arrested Rhino... right! Hopefully that's my supervillain quota for the d-" *deedle-deee, deee-deee.* went his mobile, a miraculously opening pocket in his suit where there hadn't previously been one presenting his cell to him on command. He gazed at the caller I.D. For half a second.

"Oh-" He answered it, "Hi, Aunt May-" then listened to a few mumbled words, "Ahuh... yeah... ok, I'll come over and see you." intently trying to shut out the noise of the New York streets he listened on, "No, I'm not doing anything. I'll be right over. OK, bye-"

He had to but press it to his hip for the new suit to swallow it; he'd come to ignore that even happened, that it wasn't usually like that and yet when he formed the suit into his civilian clothes he made some automatic adjustment and used his pockets properly. The black suit had numbed him to the wonders it was capable of: he didn't realise he wasn't realising, even the art of transforming it into some other outfit barely registered anymore, despite that being a newer phenomena.

Taking his usual thrill in tarzan-ing through the city, Peter made a bee-line for his other home with a kind of numbness of thought he found blissful right now. Nothing invaded his headspace, just the excitement of adrenal release clouding his attention, a rare gift he took less for granted than his suit's more mundane abilities.

Out of town, Mary-Jane was just sitting down to eat, the buffet quite appetising tonight. She'd spied her usual table-mate picking a place over near the back wall and attracted her attention as she approached. "Ah, MJ! Have you met Lori? Associate of mine." Sandy nodded across her end of the table towards a thin, young looking girl with (and Mary-Jane spotted it straight off the bat) a bucktoothed grin.

"Hi-" She simply said and sat next to her, facing over towards her established friend.

"Hey-ya!" The rabbit-like girl exclaimed welcomingly, "Sandra says you've led an interesting life..." She continued.

"Does she? Guess that's kinda true." She raised an eyebrow and tucked into a pile of food.

"Subtle, Lori, nice one..." The other woman said disparagingly.

"_Whaaat?_ I'm just makin' conversation over here!" She continued in a thick local accent.

"Yeah well don't, alright?" The other woman huffed, "Anyway, MJ..." Sandra waited for her to raise an eyebrow and look up. "You said you've been around New York a few years now... _You-know-who_ only lasted a month or so... so? Girl like you must have 'em eating outta your hands?"

Mary cocked her head a little, "Oh I've had a few here and there."

"Such as? Such as?" MJ chuckled in response to the intent questioning.

"There was this one guy in High School, Flash..." She said with a mix of longing and disgust that the others seemed to pick up on.

"Ohh, he was a one a' thooose, huh?" Lori said in her almost annoyingly coarse voice.

"Well, kinda... Not my thing to admit guilt, but..."

"_Do_ go on, your stories always entertain me, kiddo-" Sandra smiled with intrigue.

"Well... I guess it was when I was with Flash that I learned I can be my own worst enemy at times."

Peter stepped out of the shadows and straightened out his jacket with a flourish, approaching the road across from his Aunt's house. The place had always had that homey feel about it, he knew he'd always feel that way, but he'd always remember what else happened there. He shivered as this came then passed, tangibly real though it was this time.

As he crossed over, he picked out a semi-hunched, lolling figure in the porch of the house next door, a small orange glow growing then fading in front of the slender figure's face. They made eye-contact as Peter approached, "Gayle?" He asked, she nervously stepping off the front step and revealing a bit more of her face.

"-Peter, right?" Mary Jane's sister asked softly, the connection with her sibling made by the attentive, nostalgic thing in his head, that part of it that had been obsessing this evening clinging feverishly onto it.

"Yeah, how you doing? Haven't seen you in... I dunno, _ages_!" He enthused.

"Yeah." She simply replied, barely moving any further forwards. He'd almost forgotten how different the rest of MJ's family were... to her and one-another... and _in general_!

"So whatcha doing now? College? Work?" He pressed, keeping his attention and demeanour up.

"Working." She sheepishly said without flourish or elaboration. It wasn't Peter's shtick to pry into people's business, but he knew the kinds of things that had gone on and still did in that household so he could sympathise with the elder Watson's personality. She'd always been an introspective wall-flower when he'd known her through Mary-Jane; of course she'd been too old for school by then, but he wondered how she'd made it through at all.

"Anyway, nice talking to you..." He walked on, no response, "Gotta... uh..." he pointed awkwardly at the Parker house and turned to continue that way, breathing "Yah!" to himself. As he approached, he heard his Aunt's TV blaring as it always was - she hard of hearing now as he well knew - it made sitting down with her to watch her favourite quiz-shows a bit of an uncomfortably deafening experience.

"**Aunt May!?**" He called as he entered, _'-after the fight with Spider-Man, pronounced dead at the sce-'_ The television cut off at that moment, he leaning his head around the corner into the living room.

"Peter!" She seemed delighted to see him, climbing out of her arm-chair. "I'm happy to see you!" He simply smiled. "You must be so busy these days." She approached and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Yeah... Yeah, I am that!" He smiled, she needn't know what was keeping him busy, just like she needn't know the memories this room was recounting for him, memories both sweet and sour at once, memories with a flame-mane and the passions first enjoyed and endured here.

"Sit down, Peter, I'll get you some cocoa!" She had seemed hellbent on bringing him cocoa since the instance he'd already recounted.

"No, that's-" he began, but felt his memories holding and quickening as he stepped further into the room, "Actually yeah, thanks Aunt May!" He smiled with glazed eyes.

"Peter, you look starved!" She then pointed out, "I've got a pizza in the fridge, I'll put it on for you!"

"N-" He raised his hand, but she was gone, always pleasantly committed to making sure he was well looked after.

Peter meanwhile felt his head spinning again, memories flickering like ghosts trying to enter the real world until he could hardly ignore them, slumping onto the couch. He winced as the headache grew again, but this time brought a sudden fatigue with it as he reclined into the _very_ comfortable sofa.

"So who cares if I tried to kill the bitch, he belonged to _me_!" MJ extoled with some gesticulation to the women listening around the table, Sandy just nodding with a smirk.

"But wait, sounds like you just _told_ the guy you owned him then went psycho when someone else came sniffing, I don't blame this Flash for being like that..." Lori piped up, dumbfounded expressions pointed her way by the two of similar psychology.

"Who the fuck are _you_ again?" Mary-Jane asked without pausing to think. Lori's response was livid to say the least.

"**Ya what!?**" She demanded and tried to lunge for her in some twigged psychotic rage, restrained by a divider in the table and then grabbed by the more powerful Sandra who sneered at her.

"Don't!" She demanded, MJ instinctively shying away but sitting back up to polish off her plate. "Guess we're done here, but I wanna hear more about what you and '_Flash_' got up to... Got time to hit the gym to burn this off, May-Jay?"

For her part, the younger red-head wiped the last dregs of food from her lips and nodded with an "Mmm." and a nod.

"See ya there then babe, let's go Lori!" Mary watched them stand up and leave at the other end of the table, sitting back and exhaling heavily as she recalled what she and Flash had done... or rather what she'd done to Flash; she smiled to herself at that thought, he _had_ been a fun play partner... for a little while.

She raised a hand and tapped a knuckle on the table's divider, subtly thanking it for getting in the way of the opinionated woman's attempted assault. With a struggle and a groan, she lifted herself up to head out.

"Mm! NNNUH!" Peter mummbled and groaned as he recoiled from MJ's nails, scratching up his back as she leant over his bound body, breathing softly into his ear. He puffed heavily for a second or so as she stopped digging them in, the cold blunt points trickling back down. It felt so real the question of weather it was dream or relived reality lost itself somewhere in there.

"Hurts?" Mary-Jane whispered, "Then ask me to stop!" She leant back and around the back of his head to over his other shoulder, her head fitting nicely in the gap to his raised and bound arm, "All you have to do is say _it!_"

"GAH!" The Parker lad exclaimed as the nails dug back in, snatching his glutes as if to tear them from his body! "AH-AH-_NNN_!" He whinged as she wound them around like handles, gritting her teeth in his ear as she did.

"_'I piss my pants like a little boy!' _That's all you have to shout and it stops!" She let go and chuckled. MJ let him breathe as she walked around the supporting (if somewhat ornate) pillar, a wonderful addition to a house she had to admit. "Or maybe you're enoying it after all?" Her hand stroked up his naked body teasingly and turned his head by the jaw so she could sensually kiss him, her tongue flicking off his top-lip as she finished, staring persuasively into his eyes.

"Maybe you're not enjoying it enough?" Peter cheekily retorted, MJ smiling, her hands hovering around his torso. She nodded a little and bit her lip, looking down.

She struck, snatching nipples in vice-like fingers and pulling him up against the post by the dual joysticks, she up in his face, "I fucking _love it_ when you get bratty!" She crisply chastised, "Tempt me some more! _Please!_" She parted the sensitive points until he really began to whinge.

"Ahh! AH! nn-GAH!" He let out as she released when his pain spiked. With her ever more sensual technique in movement, one hand slid up and the other down, she pushing his head back, fingers all over his throat as the digits of the other hand reached for his manhood and under, touching sensitive areas as she cupped his testes then wound his shaft a little as though she were using it for some wrist flexing exercise.

"Hmm-" She said, clenching his throat as if to strangle him, "glad this isn't _my_ family's carpet..." she pulled his head down as she lifted fingers covered in a little pre-cum, "-I'd hate to explain where _this_ came from. Open your mouth!" She ordered and he did, she wiping her fingers on his tongue. "Trust me, I'm doing you a favour!" She promised, letting go of him.

MJ leant against the pillar in a slouch and stared at him. Peter, despite not being _entirely_ onboard with this was once more transfixed in her eyes, he'd do anything for her he knew, all she had to do was ask... or _order_, as she'd taken that to mean.

He had been suckered into this he felt, he'd never said he was willing and she'd never asked, but like some slowly building plan, she'd been building it all up to this, to tonight and it was sure a new experience for him if _nothing_ else.

"Alright..." MJ said at length, "Your folks'll be home in an hour, let's get you down, maybe have a bite to eat and then... pop it!" She smiled with a shrug.

"P- you mean?" She smiled.

"Sure do, you've been a good boy. You deserve a reward... and _so do I!_" She bit her lip excitedly as she reached up for the bindings.

Peter sat up with a start, realising he'd been asleep as he looked around and shifted uncomfortably in realisation of the raging monster in the southern polarity of his (clothing-formed) black suit. He tried all too late to conceal what he knew must have been sticking out like piss in a perfumery and cleared his throat as he blinked awkwardly, spying his Aunt looking over at him.

"Oh, dear you must be tired..." Peter stretched and nodded with a groan, spotting a cup of chocolate laid out by his aunt and a pizza geting colder by the minute.

"I'm sorry Aunt May, I've got a lot of things going on right now, it's..." He sighed, "-complicated, but worthwhile. That's all I can say." the Parker lad finished with a cheeky smirk.

"I'm sure it is, Peter! If you're giving it this much effort it can only be worthwhile, you're... such a good boy!" May smiled in the same sweet way Aunts and Grans do to younger generations they're proud of. "Eat up, your room upstairs is ready if you want to stay." She said with something between an order and hope.

"I... I might, I have to get some things anyway." He shrugged.

"Alright, but I don't want you doing too much, you're only human remember!" This brought a smile to his face.

"Yeah..." A certain confidence he usually hid surfaced, a condifence in knowing he wasn't, but a fair bit more besides. "-only human!"

Mary-Jane never failed to be amazed by the things some people were capable of; in a world where super-powers are rare but far from unheard of, to see a woman pulling off twelve 500 kilo deadlifts is an always impressive sight, despite seeing Sandra do it day after day as if it weren't even a huge effort.

"A lot of anger in here today, you feel it?" She asked as she dropped the bar and exhaled heavily. "Anyway... Flash! _Aa-aaaa!_" She recited the song on a whim. "Heh... Did he suggest it... or_ you?_" She chuckled to herself, MJ smiling as she recounted.

"Difficult to say... Suppose I should thank the guy really, he didn't so much unleash my inner beast as... help me realise she belongs in the bedroom too." MJ smiled warmly, "Started out nice and gentle..." She lilted for her own enjoyment, "Turned out cowgirl was a thing and I _never knew_... Poor, poor naive me..." She sighed.

"Ahuh..." Sandra spotted Mary-Jane as she took to the bench, "But I don't wanna hear the kiddy stuff, _when_ did you start _braying_ _the shit_out of him!?" MJ focused on the relatively non-existent weight to her training partner before continuing.

"About- three weeks- uh- in." She strained. "Weak- bastard had- some pretty- hnn!- hard limits! UGH!" She forced one last rep then fell flat.

"Shame. Could be worse though, right? Find a guy you can smack about: happy days!" MJ glanced up at her.

"Not quite." She was breathing fairly hard, "Like I said, turns out being the superstar jock he was, he didn't take all that kindly to the rough stuff, not that I gave a shit. As far as I cared I could break him all I wanted, I wasn't gonna be there long. My family and I would move on and I wouldn't have to care what happened to him long-term. Didn't work out that way..." Sandra clicked her neck as she listened.

"You ended up staying, right? Dad found himself in his perfect job and you were stuck? Second set!" She lifted the bar above an already quite tired MJ.

"Gonna take it easy this evening..."

"Oh right, you're going soon. Reason for excitement, but reason also to look good on the road!" Sandra demanded, MJ grudgingly taking the bar. "Anyway, Flash-"

"Decided I was- a psycho bitch- after I- caught him- chatting up- that **bitch**- _**Pam!**_ Uh- gguh- NNGUH!"

"And you're done-" Sandra took the weight. "Pam, huh? She's the one he thought you were trying to kill?"

"Gaaah! Hhyeah!" Mary-Jane exhaled heavily.

"I'm guessing hard times followed if you settled for Parker... pre-spider bite that is." MJ scowled though Sandra didn't see it, a protective urge rising in her gut as she sat up.

"You..." MJ challenged, the other woman seeing it at last.

"Oh god no! Nonono, I hate that asshole!" Sandra turned away, to MJ that wasn't a much better answer. She and Peter may have been a thing when it all came crashing down and she may have abused him for her every whim, but she still had feelings there: he was _her_ belonging and everyone should know it! Hers to abuse and love as _she_ saw fit; as much as she respected the super-powered woman, the thought of her manhandling him made her bitterly envious. Besides which if she found out he'd let himself fall prey to another woman in her absence, she might have to drop a battleship on him!

"Heh, you might think I can't see you staring daggers into me-" Sandra said with her back to her, turning to show her left eye glowing unnaturally, MJ couldn't quite tell if the sun in someone's eye could do that "But I can feel every facet of your envy. You'd be wise not to say something you might regret!" She cracked her neck as she swayed it from side to side, "We have a good relationship, I'd hate to have it... _go sour._"

MJ watched the glowing eye go out as the taller, older woman walked away. "Anyway hun, been nice talking to you..." Mary-Jane began following, "Catch up for one last game before you go?"

"...Yeah. Sure..." She replied at length, clearing her head as she was left to her own devices. There was still so much to think about before she decided what to do when she arrived back in the Big Apple.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer:

I do not own any character herein depicted, Spider-man and all related characters are property of Marvel/Disney.

This fan-fiction is written by SmoothlyDiF and carries DeviantArt's and/or 's usual Creative Commons license.

This story has a **mature rating** due to sexual content, use of the naughty swears and peculiar violence unsuitable for minors.

Personal note: this may not be everybody's cup of tea and I apologise in advance if the structure reads confusingly, but it's something I've wanted to write for some time now and hopefully you will get something out of it, feedback as always is greatly appreciated.

SmoothlyDiF

Chapter 4

Peter hit his bed like a sack of spuds, feeling strung out and mentally exhausted more than physically. "Phew... don't know what's come over me today. It's like everything's... coming back to me all at once."

He dwelled on how he couldn't shift the ever rising sense of premonition, as if his spider-sense was heightening like every other one of his powers recently, ever since... His eyes lackadaisically dropped to his suit as it reformed on his bed into its slick black textured usual self; he cocked his head at watching this. "I wonder how it does that... how does it know what I want it to do?"

His phone presented itself to him once more in a similar way as he reached for it, "I don't know where it even came from, or what it is... I've never heard of anything like this, maybe I can find something out..." He said out loud destractedly while typing away at safari.

He looked at the search results and froze, waited for a moment while his mind caught up with his vision and fell slack-jawed. '9 Honest Ways To Say "_I Love You_" – BuzzFeed', 'Translations of _I love you_ in many languages – Omniglot', '3 Ways to Say "_I Love You_" – wikiHow'

He squinted for a second then hit the power button, dropping his phone as his mind drifted freely in a moment of bemusement. His eyes stared at the ceiling and eventually he uttered "This place brings back mixed feeling-wait..."

It occured that he'd missed something there, something... obvious! He'd been trying to do something, trying to... find something out... His phone presented itself to him once more in a similar way as he reached for it. He couldn't remember what he wanted to find out... his suit? Oh yeah, he'd forgotten how great this thing was!

His gloved hands strayed up and down the tight fabric to a pleasing sensation; it did seem pocked and high-tech to look at, but on him it felt... He smiled a little at that, putting his phone back away: pressed to his side it swallowed into the suit and seemed to vanish. No more weight, no bump or sharp edges, this suit always made sure he was perfectly streamlined no matter what he was 'storing'.

Peter stretched in his lethargy and yawned as he looked out onto the street he'd called home for so long, the same view he had when he'd first known Mary-Jane's (or any woman for that matter) touch. His mind swallowed this image, those ghosts, that _ghost_ of times passed sharpening again into view and sensation and he knew he couldn't fight it any more...

Mary-Jane Watson nibbled Peter's bottom lip and positioned those moonbeam green eyes on his own; her body felt warm and almost moist to the touch as she flattened over him; Peter felt like the luckiest guy on earth, but couldn't imagine what she might be thinking.

"You ready for this, then?" She muttered softly, her feiry hair cascading all over his bare shoulders like wire tips brushing almost abusively across him: scratchy but tickly, another cutaneous sensation new to the self-titled 'Million-bucks Man'.

She waited almost uneasily, Peter not given right now to wondering if that was nerves on her part; MJ gave the impression of being eager, hungry almost for what they had decided upon, she'd belatedly even given Peter the opportunity to decide for himself if he was ready, not something he was used to - considering how readily she'd bossed every element of their time together up until now. But he _was_ ready - not without anxiety – to do this with the girl of his dreams.

He nodded casually, "Yeah." he smiled and nervously let Mary kiss him, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." She whispered, her warm palm clamped on his chest and she used it to push herself up with all the grace her self-satisfaction demanded.

"Just relax... relax..." She uttered gently as he inched her way to where any practised cowgirl needed to be; Peter was engorged again in the gravity of this moment, braving to running fingers up her other arm, gripping suddenly as she washed over him. Warmth and moistness took his breath away for a moment as it swallowed him whole; his back arched and his face slowly fell back to look her in the eye as MJ herself exhaled heavily.

Peter felt urges taking him, hands needing to wander, hands succeeding in wandering with random, unimaginative inaccuracy. Slow and sensual, gentle but firm a special moment was shared then and now.

He hadn't realised until he _plateaud_, hadn't imagined he could do so until he_ felt it_, but - recalling every pock and pore of Mary-Jane as she rode him like a prized stallion, every pant and touch as they played 'what's this bit do?', then memorially cumming most gloriously - he startled back to reality, arse-in-air on the bed, ten fingers snaring sheets and abdomen lathered in creamy ode to a fond memory.

"Huh- huh..." he exclaimed softly, understanding and unashamed he'd done so. He lowered flat as he came down and lifted skin-tight black enclosed digits to his cream-lined midriff and felt how perfectly slippy it felt now between he and his costume.

He collapsed lazily, legs splaying with the flexibility his spider powers allowed him (flat to the side how any other gent could only dream of) and exhaled heavily with a slow blink.

Mary-Jane stared intently down, she felt she had a gift for this game and was more than a little pleased to find herself able to teach her powerful 'friend' a thing or two about the game of chess.

"So." Sandra piped up, staring knowingly down the table at MJ. "You decided the boy Parker would be your new beau. How'd that work out?"

MJ huffed with a smirk, her dainty fingers reaching down and picking up a faux-ivory piece. "Let's just say..." She placed it back down elsewhere, "-it needed a little work to begin with." She stopped to think about something, "Y'know I find it kind of amazing... the coincidence of it all I mean."

Sandy rubbed her chin as she sussed the board out, "You mean _you_ knowing him, _me_ knowing him, both of us having... _interactions_ with him?" She glanced up with a satisfied smile at seeing the expected grimace of jealous anger she liked to illicit from Mary-Jane by talking like it had been something she wouldn't approve of.

Watson dissaproved of the other person finding such amusement in that, but swallowed her pride, she doubted there would be any meaningful way of unleashing that intent back on Sandra anyway. "Yeah... _that_." The love-hate relationship they shared was beneficial and snarky to both no doubt, MJ found Sandra to be the only real person she could bounce off here.

Mary's opponent moved her piece and said "Well... it's a smaller world than you think, babe. I guess in a way you made the man I _met_ so that makes it all the more fascinating to hear what went into building _that_-" She bit her tongue before she could offer an insult, "-you were telling me about your difficulties!" She grimace-smiled tellingly.

"Mmm!" Watson nodded, "A little friend of his... thought she could be something more... thought I was a bad influence... Gwen... someone." She looked over the developing game between them as Sandra developed her next carefully constructed words.

"And you just _had_ to deal with her I imagine."

Mary glanced up knowingly, "You're learning." She indicated towards the chess board and smiled.

"**Is it true!?**" The blonde-haired girl had demanded, having stomped up to the red-haired manipulator, Gwen slamming her hand against a locker next to MJ's to a loud bang and lots of people looking.

Mary-Jane had slowly closed her locker and turned to look her in the eyes with a 'clueless' head-tilt as she puckered out her lipstick. "What's that?"

"Peter! Did he..." She'd leant in closer, looking around to dissuade onlookers, "-did he really say I'm **going** with _Tim Gordon_?" MJ then holding back a smirk.

"Would it matter if he did? That's prettymuch common knowledge anyway, hun. Isn't it amazing how fast word spreads though?" She'd said with a severe arrogance in her voice.

"You-"

"Now _I-_" MJ interupted, "Would be far more concerned about _Clara!_ You know Clara, right?" She had limp-wristedly pointed to the sporty athlete with her back turned across the hall, "Apparently _she_ thinks _you're_ using _Tim_ to make _Peter_ jealous and... rumour has it she looks after him like a big sister: _very_ protective! I think there's more to it personal-"

"Cl-Clara?" MJ stared at her concerned look as she was interupted.

"Seems you're more worried about what she might _do_ to you than you are about how I'd feel if you took Peter away from _me! _Or how _he'd_ feel_..._" Gwen's attention had turned back to the frighteningly stern-looking red-head.

"_You?_" Mary-Jane got a bit more up in her face.

"Do you have any idea what I've been through since Flash _fucking_ Thompson spread those lies about me!? _Pete_'s the first guy who's given me a second glance and if _you_ fuck that up for me, _believe me_, I'm gonna be your **worst nightmare!**" She'd said, swinging from abstract to overt threat deftly in mere moments.

"What do you mean? We're just fr-"

"_And I'm _'_just friends'_ with Clara and her Judo BFFs... _if_ you get me!?" MJ almost snarled, "Wouldn't want them getting the wrong idea, now _would we?_"

"I-I Peter's been my friend forever! I just want to make sure he's OK!" Gwen had pleaded, as MJ remembered well.

"Yah! He _is_ OK! And he's OK as a **grown man**... _my_ grown man! So let it go or I swear-" The class bell had rung right then, just as she'd hoped it might so MJ straightened up, "Nice talking to you, Gwen... See you _never!_" She'd snarkily said in closing and walked away from the distraught teen, that suppressed smirk then blazing – by now out of Gwen's sight - into something only marginally short of a maniac's cackle.

"Mmm, cold..." Sandra admitted across the table as she intently listened, "Cut off his best friend so you could have him all to yourself." MJ tried to read her poker face as she just stared her down. The older person began giggling lightly to herself.

She burst into full-on hysterics which lightened Mary-Jane's mood, "Hahahaaa, I love your style, kid!" She shook her head with a grin still etched across her face. "It takes a _special_ kind of bitch to ruin a guy's life for a little bit of action!"

Mary-Jane's expression faltered a little, her lips quivering some, Sandra spotting the change as it came. "Oh... Ohhh-ho-ho-ho! No!" She was honestly shocked, rocking onto the edge of her seat. "_Really_?" She'd pursued without fully asking, MJ's cold stare unbroken and turning back down to the board.

She didn't have to look up and over the table to see and know what her companion was thinking and wanting to know, but she fully enjoyed letting her stew a few seconds. "Bishop to F6."

"Huh? Oh-" The elder looked down and moved MJ's white piece one square as requested. Mary-Jane's eyes rolled back up to meet Sandra's waiting for her, an awkward moment passing "Alright, fuck it, I'll bite: _why?_"

MJ smiled widely and sat up and back, waiting a moment before pouting, "What makes you think there's a _why_?"

Peter knew he didn't need to, but it felt right. Somehow the mess he'd made had cleaned itself up with a thought and left not even the faint whiff of its former presence, yet he knew a shower was what was called for; the fact that the nearly uncomfortable chill of the water was waking him back up helped.

Somehow he knew he couldn't or... _shouldn't_ sleep right now; the dread of what might or could happen continued to grow, now to the point where he couldn't stop his throat seizing up every time he tried to swallow. It was as if he was about to step into the most important interview of his life or some stage-performance beckoned that would spoil him forever if he cocked it up.

It was an awkward, disconcerting position and yet there seemed to be a part of him calling for it, pushing him to feel so on-edge, some masochistic desire to leave himself on awful tenterhooks. His mind traced for answers, for reasons and all he kept coming back to was the terrible idea that _she_ might be back! His rival, _Shriek_, who'd caused such mayhem and panic on the streets of New York as she'd killed and destroyed everything around, but she _couldn't_ be, he just knew that was all in the past!

That only left one option, one potential reason to fear: the _original_ fear, the one who'd started it all for him, taught him the wrath of a woman scorned... Mary-Jane Watson had more potential to be on the horizon he reluctantly admitted. He shook it from his thinking with a start, "Come on, Spidey! Pull yourself together!"

His chastisement didn't do much for him though when he caught his scar with a stray nail and winced. "Ow... why's this thing still hurting?" He asked aloud, looking down to the only injury he couldn't heal from, the only physical one anyway, dating to back before that fateful spiderbite.

Perhaps if it had been different, he thought and yet it all seemed so intertwined, 8 legged things just happened to be a fixture in that troubling time.

"What would happen if it bit you, d'ya think?" Peter looked up from the glass box to Gwen as she asked this, smiling. He was happy she at least still came here, even if _he_ wasn't supposed to... MJ would be so mad he didn't even care to think what she'd say!

"Well Hobo Spiders can be quite dangerous, rumours of their bites causing necrosis, death, y'know... minor stuff!" He could see her face crease up in disgust as he said this. "Fascinating, though!" He looked back into the tank.

"Yeah..." Gwen whimsically acknowledged, something seeming to eat away at her, though Peter was far too hard-headed and obtuse on such issues to take notice.

"Right! I've got to get ready or I'll spend all night here!" He said with a certain giddy charm about himself. He turned and began getting rid of some of the lab safety gear he'd had on.

"Uh, Peter..." He stopped as he removed a glove and looked back. "Are you... alright?" He just stared, his eyes just barely flickering as the thought (and fear) of being outed struck him, "This Mary-Jane, she's not... y'know...?" She seemed to struggle to explain all this.

"I, uh... don't know what you mean, Gwen!" He didn't mean it to sound accusational, she'd become distant enough already, but he reeeally didn't want pressing on this.

"But... I... You seem different, Pete! That's all..." Even recalling it, he felt like an idiot: every word that came out of his mouth after that was the work of a stupid teenager's brain performing a stupid teenager's antics.

"Whaddya mean, Gwen? You don't like that I'm _happy_ with MJ?" He challenged accusationally, "What, is she too good for me? Shouldn't I be happy? _What!?_" He was suddenly flipping, overreacting and protecting a girl who was even then an abusive cyst on his life.

Gwen just stood aghast, looking honestly threatened by his sudden outburst. "I'm... just worried, that's all, jesus! No need to fly off the-" She jumped, staring wide-eyed as he slammed his hand down, losing his head altogether (though he never subsequently put real rhyme or reason to any of it.)

"Why, because _you'd_ be so much better for me? Hate to break it to you,_ Gwen_, but you're not even in MJ's league!"

Bracing the wall, water running off his chin, he could still barely stand himself for saying that. In hindsight – he knew – she'd been right all along, but it'd taken some serious soul-searching and questions asked of the right people in the aftermath to understand why he'd so forcefully stood up for his abuser against his lifelong friend.

"Abuser... yeah, that's a good word." He reckoned as he ran through it, when he'd got home he'd found out the true meaning of abuse alright. He'd hoped she wouldn't mind all that much, maybe that she would have forgotten she'd told him he couldn't do his usual extra-curricular science-club stuff, "Ohh how wrong could a guy be?"

He touched gently the thin gashes of scar tissue reaching out from his sternum like some brand he'd never be free of and with half reticence, half eager self-punishment, he thought of his triumphant home-coming or... _something_ like that.

"I've never known someone quite so... twisted as you, May-Jay. You're one seriously fucked up little puppy!" Sandra said, undaunted, clicking down her piece.

"Maybe I _was_..." MJ shrugged, "-got what I wanted though, right?"

"What, you wouldn't do it again? I'm guessing you would. Sure we all grow up, but you seem to have spent all your efforts growing into a bigger, badder asshole! Fuck knows what you'd be capable of if you had _super-powers_, shit!"

MJ's interest was piqued, she'd often thought of what would be if she had absolutely no authority to bow to, if the world truly was her oyster and she could show them just how badly all that worthless rehab had failed. "Nuh-uh! I can see that glint in your eyes, you've got it all figured out aintchya? You've got everything but the power!"

Mary-Jane smiled and looked down to the board, "Rook to E5, mate." She softly spoke.

"Wait, what!?" Sandra lunged forwards, scanning over the chess board, "Whutthefuckhax?!" She raised her top lip in disgust then slammed her considerable power into slapping the board away, much to Mary's amusement.

She watched pieces ping off the divider between them, the board stuck hard and fast in/beneath it. "Anyway, if you were right about him, it _could_ be a reality..." The flame-haired woman licked her bottom lip a little, calming the other.

"'Course I'm right! What do you take me for!?" She swaggered even in such an uncomfortable chair, looking fairly cool and composed suddenly despite the fashion nightmare adorning her.

"Oh yeah? How exactly did you find out and not put it to good use, then, hmm?" MJ challenged, leaning forwards onto the table.

"Look, kid! _Me_ and the Spider went at it for _three_ days straight! If I'd had two good limbs to keep going I'd have _had_ him! Then I wouldn't be in this fucking place!" She looked around. "You just go see him and put it to some good use, you'll see!"

"Right OK... then come break you out, eh?" MJ semi-jested to a stern expression.

"ALRIGHT, LADIES! SOCIAL TIME'S OVER! BACK TO YOUR COZY LITTLE CELLS!" Announced the same powerful prison-guard MJ grudgingly accepted respect for when she escorted her from her prison-cell for dinner.

"_Watson_, you know what that means..." She then said as Mary-Jane stood and ironed out the creases of the purdy orange jumpsuit she still swore didn't match her hair (or anything else for that matter.) "Just wait till we get these little birdies out of here, then _you_ get your wholly undeserved freedom... Not that I _like_ it!" She sneered, up in the young woman's grinning face.

Ignored for a second, MJ turned to look through the super-power suppression barrier towards Sandra as she was ushered away from the other side of the table, receiving a wink from the inmate. "See ya, May-Jay. Tell Spidey '_Shriek_' says hi!"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer:

I do not own any character herein depicted, Spider-man and all related characters are property of Marvel/Disney.

This fan-fiction is written by SmoothlyDiF and carries DeviantArt's and/or 's usual Creative Commons license.

This story has a **mature rating** due to sexual content, use of the naughty swears and peculiar violence unsuitable for minors.

Personal note: this may not be everybody's cup of tea and I apologise in advance if the structure reads confusingly, but it's something I've wanted to write for some time now and hopefully you will get something out of it, feedback as always is greatly appreciated.

SmoothlyDiF

Chapter 5

"Mary-Jane! J-Just p-p-put the knife down, you don't want to do something stupid!" Vulnerable had been an understatement for Peter Parker, cornered in his room, supine on his bed trying to convince his livid girfriend not to use the blade she tightly gripped.

"Never mind the fucking knife, _Tiger_! I _told_ you not to go play with your stupid spiders! I _tooold_ you not to see that scabby Stacy bitch! Then you come in here like some haggard old drunk and tell me _I might _do something stupid!?"

Suddenly – and Peter remembered it well – she'd pounced like a blood-thirsty predator, wielding that insanely huge knife as if it were a toy. Peter was never a tough boy, never learnt to fight and always got the brunt of all given punishments, even here he'd failed to make his morbid terror into any meaningful resistance as she'd pinned him down with rage like supernovas burning in her eyes.

"No! Please! Please don't MJ! I love you, MJ! Don't do this!" Not a word got through, not an idea or a shred of humanity had returned.

"You like spiders, huh!? _You __**fucking**__ like __**SPIDERS?!**_" She screamed, calling a whimper from him as she'd dug her nails into him with as if trying to tear him apart without even using the gleaming blade. "THEN LET'S MAKE YOU A **SPIDER-MAN**,_ EH TIGER_!?"

"NO! NO! NOO**AAAAAGH!**" He'd begged desperately and screamed as he'd felt the cold steel carve into his chest, almost painless as it had seemed to carve through him swiftly and effortlessly, Pete coiling up and wincing even as he thought about it all over again.

It had been hard living it, harder still living with it, but rerunning it with such pure, supernaturally photographic memory was unbearable! This one was sharper than any up to now, more perfectly rendered and frighteningly realistic, he clutching his chest as it felt like it was tearing open all over again, each of those scarred 'legs' she'd cut into him slicing open as if he'd bleed out all over again.

Peter whimpered with every fragment of the memory, coiling into a corner in the shower; it had somehow been easy to forget the way he'd screamed like a pig in an abatoir, to remember the rage and unstoppable terror she represented in his eyes at that moment, but then his memories had never been like this, it'd never been so real since that _very_ night!

"EYAAAAGH! AAAAAAGH!" He screamed beneath the castcade of cold water, trying to make it go away, trying to make it stop, remembering the thrashing and shouting at the door, the sound of his uncle's voice demanding them to open up.

Then pain of his assault went away, but somehow it was even worse knowing what happened next. Back then, he'd seen MJ jump off and make a run for it without realising what happened, feeling and watching it back he knew that the moment that door opened-

"PETER! Peter are you alright!?" Aunt May forced open the door and ran in to him, startling him out of it as she wrapped him in a towel and got the sobbing husk of a young man out of the cold shower.

"Aunt May! Aunt May it's so horrible, I keep having these flashbacks... that night with Mary Jane and... Uncle Ben!" She held him tightly, the one figure he had to hold onto in these rare moments of human weakness, "I could have saved him! I could have- I could have-"

"No, no, Peter! It was an accident! You couldn't have done anything! You _know_ she didn't intend hurt him, they collided by accident and that's not how he died _anyway!_ It. Was. An. Accident! Don't think like that! Ohhh, Peter!" May just embraced him tightly.

Mary-Jane hadn't seen these halls and desks in nearly three whole years, she'd wondered at times if she ever would, but this is where they brought her when she'd admitted it and her sentence was handed down.

These cold, featureless passageways carried memories and words in their pocked surfaces, memories she too found enticing right now as one last trip down destruction avenue:

All she could think to do was run!

She sprinted out of the house, knife tucked away and leapt over the garden fence between the houses; through her desperate tears and panic-sweat she spied her father stood at the end of the path, watching her with ears and eyes pricked.

She charged into her house, racing up the stairs, possessed with nothing but the desperate need to run away as fast as she could. She grabbed a rucksack, stuffed it full of whatever came to hand and darted back out to the stairs.

Nothing crossed her mind, nothing stopped her clumsy descent of the stairs as all sense escaped her, but then, there at the foot of the stairs her flight ended. He'd obviously been and seen for himself, he'd clearly put two and two together and now he wore a demeanour Zeus might offer when handing down rods from god to the unworthy.

"WHWTA _THE FUCK_ DID YOU DO TO **THAT BOY!?**" He screamed and pushed her violently back against a wall, causing all the supplies she'd grabbed to crash to the ground around her. He grabbed and threw her into the next room where the rest of the family were stood dumbfounded and then descended on her with violence fresh on the mind.

Without a second thought, Mary was grabbed and thrust back against the wall, her fear and adrenaline suddenly focused on self-survival as she realised the danger she now faced. He may have been angry, but she... _she_ was beyond the rubicon now, her mind settled it: she had nothing left but death or glory!

She'd not been on the end of her father's physical might in many years, but when he meant it he sure packed a punch (quite literally.) She jolted from the impact, but that seemed to hurt her parent far more than it hurt her. Yes she was dazed, yes she was even angrier now than ever before, but seeing and feeling himself hit his own daughter seemed to shatter what little was left of Phillip Watson's soul.

"I'm ruined! I can't believe this... I... I didn't mean to hit her! But... but... What she did to the Parker boy... I'm ruined... Ruined!"

MJ quickly boiled her blood until she was ready to free those broken shards of soul from their mortal torment: her fingers wrapped around the hewn blade handle, her knuckles whitened and her teeth ground into the very dust of fury itself.

Screaming "**I FUCKING HATE YOUUU!**" She launched once more into the frey! **"I'LL KILL YOU! FUCKING DIE! DIE! DIEDIEDIE!" **came the words she'd hear back days and weeks later in the spacious confines of a courtroom, words she would never deny, words she meant every syllable of.

Phillip never saw it coming, Madeline had never imagined it could happen, Gayle had never witnessed such horror and Mary-Jane had never felt such satisfaction in an action; for once, just _once,_ the whole Watson tribe came together for a special occasion and with blood on their collective hands they would _never_ be the same again.

Peter had got his shit together, he'd sat, spoken and relived that final acts of that night with his Aunt and consoled himself, even still his journey back to his apartment was a highly-strung, artless web-flight with every nerve shot and the rogue elements of his mind still skipping off topic here and there.

Concentration was difficult; maybe that was his sleep-deprivation, but every time he needed to find a web-point, his vision blurred and his heart-skipped a fearful beat, his arms like jelly as he swayed awkwardly through the Manhatten skyline.

With a massive sigh of relief he clung to his apartment window, thinking (though only for a split-second) that his spider-grip had failed him. He hurried inside to collapse on his bed with sweat escaping every anxious pore.

He exhaled heavily and thanked himself for having just the one last memory to get through to complete his torture and get back to his no-frills life. Smashing supervillains would be a doddle after the tricks his mind had been playing this evening.

Still, he knew it was coming and accepted one last time the throbbing, screaming subconscious need for distressing recollection as lethargy finally overcame him at home in his nice, safe bed. His hand rested lightly on the spider emblem on the front of his suit and the perfect tracing it made of the scars beneath.

The dark had been a blessing, the isolation too. To be free from the terror of his incarcerated other half and drugged up enough to ignore the fire arcing out of his chest had been the recuperation he'd needed. He hadn't had to worry about school and the field trip to the University (and their Arachnid research centre) was still 3 days away, he'd hoped he could make that if nothing else.

The one drawback had been knowing that his Uncle Ben was worse than he was, he'd been told not to worry but he did; supposedly he wasn't critical and was recovering, but with everything as it was he couldn't help but-

*dock-dock-dock* A gentle knock at the door, "Peter, it's Aunt May..." He'd heard softly and weakly.

"Mmm, it's OK, come in." Peter then pulled back the covers as the light crept in through the cracking door; the silhouette of his ageing aunt stepped inside and reached for the bedside light. "Nph!" he'd complained as the light blinded his darkness-adapted eyes, eyes that had focused and seen an expression that somehow (though he had no idea how) he only now managed to properly recollect.

He remembered how red-raw his aunt's face looked at that moment, tears had obviously been streaming from them from some time; he remembered his jolt of a reaction that sent agony coursing through his body, agony he'd borne for more important matters.

"Aunt May! What is it...? Don't..." He'd been told it was all alright, that his uncle had been recovering...

"Peter... it's Ben..." She sniffed and dabbed her eyes, "He's... he's gone, Peter. Your Uncle Ben's gone. I'm so sorry!" Devastation and desolation, Peter's mind had mashed itself once too much by then and it all came out as he embraced his Aunt in sorrow. Everything about that moment was unbearable to think about, but somehow even unconsciously dreaming it made Peter feel a little better and stronger for facing it all again.

"It wasn't what happened with _her_... he said so and the doctors too. He had... problems with his heart and... it was just all too much for him!" Aunt May stressed at the time with bravery Peter would remember. "But even when I last spoke to him he was thinking of you. He said..." She then as he recalled fell into a deep bout of sobbing that made her words indecipherable.

He would later find out the last advice he'd been passed, to look after himself and his Aunt and to... _not_ blame Mary-Jane. _That_ had been difficult, it had taken him so long to understand it... he wanted to blame her and hate her, to believe even when she only received an ABH charge for it that she _murdered_ his Uncle.

Uncomfortable memories, but as they faded away, Peter finally felt at ease as he dozed as if some ghost had been laid to-

*THUM-THUM-THUM!* Peter startled awake to find it pitch black out, realising he must have been out for a good few hours. "Muh?" He asked, *THUM-THUM!* The door rattled again, Peter swinging his legs off the bed, "Harry?" He asked, stumbling off like the walking dead. "That you, Bro?" He asked, the suit seemingly formed into PJs at some stage; Peter realised he must have forgotten plans with his bro (as usual.)

"Har-!?" He opened to door. He froze. He dissolved on the inside. He dissolved on the outside, not sure if his suit had fallen off him or just hidden as he wished he could.

"Found you, _Tiger_... Guess _I_ just hit the jackpot!"

_Le Fin?_


End file.
